Here's a drink to the lost
in the beverage of their choice
be it drenched in alcohol
or absent the sotted brew
each absence is trifling
taken in the world's wide breadth
what's now wandered far a field
denies attention by the pleb
a crowd of thousands mill about
ignoring each in their stead
this is the illusion beyond the cheers
draw the curtains against their shrill
there are a few that are too real
even though they're now only ghosts
haunting halls in memory
denying balm of thoughtlessness
these gaps are notable
when a seat becomes a void
where once the cheer was embraced
by dear ones now removed
so raise a drink to these souls
in the beverage of their choice
we'll get sloshed because we can
in memory of missing friends.
© 2019. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved.20190124.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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